


The Curse of the Damned

by xelaoth_the_false_prophet



Category: My Chemical Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-07
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2021-01-15 17:56:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21257300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xelaoth_the_false_prophet/pseuds/xelaoth_the_false_prophet
Summary: Gerard is at his grandma Elena's nursing home following her death and meets a sneaky teen, Frank. In a heated moment Frank reveals some things he probably shouldn't, and Gerard is curious for more.





	The Curse of the Damned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gerard is at his grandma Elena's nursing home following her death and meets a sneaky teen, Frank. In a heated moment Frank reveals some things he probably shouldn't, and Gerard is curious for more.

_“Fuck it.” He lowered his face, giving a final silent prayer. To address the undead it takes everything, especially when you’re trying to hold on to the last day of life you have left. He took the knife, hidden under the scarlet cloth on the ground. Selling ourselves to the devil wasn’t the original plan, but we had no choice. “Gerard, I’m scared,” I dragged myself from the floor to his feet, struggling to get upright, “We’re dead either way.” I held my hand out, he took mine in an instant. I felt his hands tremble. Shaking was becoming a habit of his. “I’ll count us in,” I gasp, we were running out of time. Throwing the cloth to the side, our hands remained linked as he turned our hands over. Running the jagged knife over our palms, being careful to avoid any bloodbath options. I cringed, the pain I could deal with but the blood made me feel sickly, I was sure Frank felt the same. “No other options?” Frank cried, I knew he dreaded this but we needed to do it. “Frank,” I sucked in a breath,_  
  
“I’m so, so, so sorry." 

The sound of modern life, 1997, and here I am, on a Monday, settling matters of my grandmother’s death. After my mother and father ran away from my brother and me, we were left to fend for ourselves at 14 and 17. Being the older brother, I took on most of the responsibilities. I ended up finishing school a few months later and took on as much work as possible, 3 jobs, struggling to fit them all in. Never thought I’d live past the age of 18 but here I am at 21. So of course being the responsible one out of the whole family (minus my brother, but I can’t bring myself to burden him); I’m sitting in the old haunting nursing home, waiting for the black haired sunken eyed lady to bring me a coffee. You see I can’t function without a coffee and even less if it’s an event like this. 

I’d often thought about the day this would come, how depressing it would be to never see her again. She taught me so much when I was younger, gave me laughter and happiness as a child. But the even worse truth is that I couldn’t bear to see her in her last year of life. She was so sick, so, so, so fucking sick, and I never said goodbye. 

“’Ey kid.” 

My eyes dashed to meet the loud man. Shorter than me by a mile but was impeccably chiselled, definitely not someone you would think to work at a nursing home. “You dead or alive bucko?” Wish I was dead. I remained still as he sighed, “Yer grandmaw’s stuff will be up for collection in twenty.” He spat. Grossed out I moved away from the now contaminated wall and dragged out a chair for myself. The man stomped away to the busy kitchen, probably stocked with food orders from grumpy old people. I straightened my worn leather jacket and combed my hand through my unkempt hair, trying to fix any out of place strands. The kitchen door swung open as someone came out. A boy, younger than me but not by much. He’s delicate with his hands, covered with black disheveled gloves. Balancing a few teacups on his arms, he approached me. 

Placing a coffee cup on my checkered table he gives an exasperated breath, sunken eyes avoiding my own. “Didn’t get much sleep did you?” I ask jokingly, of course I don’t plan on talking for long, I’m too busy in my head for that. He gives a smirk while keeping his eyes glued to the tea on his arms, “Bit too busy for that sir. This isn’t the most lenient job.” I lean backwards in the chair, as to not slouch, “I know the feeling kid.” We stay there in silence for a few seconds, not awkward, not bothered, just enjoying the peace we both clearly never get. His head slowly tilted upwards to look at me but just as quickly turned away. The employee I saw earlier is angrily strutting over to us and wants this kid’s attention; or mine, but that wouldn’t make a lot of sense. 

“Ey, Frank-o! Back to work!” Frank, what an interesting name for an interesting face, perfect for him. Frank promptly returned to working, giving me a half apologetic glance before entering the loud kitchen. I sighed, alone once more. Seemed like we could be friends if it had been a different time and setting. Finally I lowered my head to face the table, my coffee! That’s what that Frank kid was originally here for. I grip the warm cup tightly, allowing myself to savour the taste. Leaning backwards into the chair, I take in my surroundings. Pale corridor leading to all the rooms, scuffed carpet that the residents have destroyed, even a few elders sitting behind me, cursing me out under their breath. It’s kind of annoying when everywhere you go, the older generation is cussing you out and blaming you for something you didn’t do, just because you decide to stand out a little. Herd mentality. Not like I’ll be here for too long, just get her things and get out-

“Gerard Way?” A young woman has appeared at the door. I stand up to leave my half-finished coffee as I sneeze and throw myself a bit wayward.  
“God bless you,” The older woman says, gracefully from behind me. Pfft, isn’t that ironic. I nod my head at her as a thanks and briskly leave the cafeteria with the young woman. I’m lead through the corridor. The stale carpet becoming more crumpled with every step. Eventually we passed what had to be a hundred names before arriving at my grandmother’s door, ‘Elena Way’. “Thanks.” I mention to the employee before rushing inside. 

It’s not a bad room, but it’s also bad because she’s gone. I brush my hands over her brown antique piano, couldn’t have been used for years. The walls were a pale blue surrounding an empty bed, reminding of her absence. Fuck. I check my phone, 12:00, I have until 3:00 to get what I need then get the hell out. I grab a wooden crate already prepared for me and start to sort through her collection of photos in her tv cabinet. Some of my parents, some of me, some of my cousins. 

A year later and I’ve finally got the relevant ones, some cute ones with baby Mikey and some with me. This is a lot of emotional work. We went to the park at 9 and 5, when Elena was posing with me after my school play. God, I miss being young and not having developed complex problems or feelings. I walk to her glimmering jewellery box and click it open, a drawer pops out with a cigarette packet, only one taken. I didn’t realise she smoked. I mean I do too but she’s crazy old, which honestly makes sense. I snatched the box and headed outside to the pavilion, we’d had a fair few discussions about heavy subjects there so I figured it would be a good way to let off steam.

I unlocked the sliding door to the murky outside and stepped out, freezing in my tracks. A dark haired figure was sitting at the pavilion. I crouched a little and walked to the side of it to try and look at their face. It’s a private backyard so other residents shouldn’t be going walkabout into each other’s yards. They’re looking down and it’s impossible to see their face. “Hey!” I say, unsure of whether they’ll hear me.  
The scruffy brown head instantly bolts to look at me and it’s Frank. “Oh shit,” He goes to stand and nearly drops his cigarette, nearly falling after it. He looks genuinely apologetic, “Sorry, I just,” He takes a big breath as I walk closer, “This place is really calming and I’ve- I’ve started coming here every time I get lunchbreak. And,-” He stops, cogs turning in his head.  
  
“Hey wait, you’re Gerard right? Not that Mikey guy.”  
“How long have you been doing this for?” I asked,  
“For long enough to get to know Elena.” His eyes fell to the floor, at this point we were across from each other in the pavilion.  
“And you’re kind of an asshole from what I’ve heard.” Jeez, salt in the wound much?  
“Listen Frank, there’s a lot of shit behind all that you don’t know about-“  
  
“Oh I know a lot Gerard.” A hint of passive aggressiveness in his voice. I sighed, turning against the wind I pull up my cigarette and lighter. I light it and walk myself to sit at one end of the pavilion, Frank continued his own cigarette and sat at the other end. I looked at him, his sad green eyes and my own shivering hands. “So what did she tell you then?” I ask. He seems lost for words, she really must have fucked him up with those stories, or someone else might have in their own way. “A lot.” He stopped staring at me and drove his attention to the koi pond outside, sweeping his hair out of his face. Not exactly the answer I was looking for but I guess I’m not allowed to push it, I deserve that. 

We sit in silence for a while, taking a drag every few. The silence this time is full of regret and annoyance, I can feel it. I finish my smoke and squish it, I pull out the phone to check the time but at the same time my packet of cigarettes fall out. Frank raised an eyebrow, “So you’re packing Elena’s stuff up?” I nod and reach down to pick it up. My hand swipes the cold pavement, grabbing all the cigarettes I can see. I stand myself back up and lean against the wooden frame. Frank gets up and walks over to me, picking up a missed cigarette. Keen eye. “So what now then? Now Elena is gone?” Frank asks, and I honestly have no clue.  
  
“Try continuing life as it has always been.” I drift off at the end, my life has never been consistent. Why would it start to be after this? Frank hands me the cigarette and I feel his cold hands swipe over my own, but I hold my hand out to him, “Keep it, I smoke enough.” Frank doesn’t question it and takes it back, hopefully re-evaluating whatever Elena told him. He slides his phone out of his pocket, checking the time. “I’ve gotta dash.” He stands to leave quickly, unfolding keys for the small gate that he opened to get in. I wasn’t satisfied with it ending this way, I didn’t have answers I was in fact a little insulted, but I was still curious. Maybe I should ask, I don’t see any harm in doing so. 

“Hey Frank?” He spun around to me and I walked up to him as he was unlocking the gate.  
  
“What?” He looked a little anxious. I was just unsatisfied.  
  
“Did you want to talk another time? Not here, no distractions?” I asked hesitantly, it’s not exactly normal to want to talk to someone outside of a workplace after they berate you for not caring about your grandma enough.  
  
Silence follows for what feels like forever.  
  
  
  
“Sure.”


End file.
